


Paradigm Shift

by Zeiskyte



Category: Persona 5
Genre: #GoroBigBang2020, Akechi Goro's Dubious Mental Health, Angst, Futago Siblings, Gen, Gravity Falls with yokai, Humor, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Sakura Futaba's Dubious Mental Health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28746090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeiskyte/pseuds/Zeiskyte
Summary: After the events of Royal, Goro and Futaba learn about their shared lineage. Akira insists for them to visit him in Inaba, see the countryside, and make up for lost time. Once Goro and Futaba end up lost in a forest full of yokai, they have to rely on one another in order to survive - and they may even come to an understanding of their half-sibling along the way.Written for #GoroBigBang2020, including art by @ASweetenz!
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Sakura Futaba, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 19
Kudos: 98
Collections: Goro Big Bang 2020, Marigolds Discord Recs





	Paradigm Shift

**Author's Note:**

> This fic tided me over during the fall semester, and I'm very excited to finally share it. Futago siblings is just. So so good and I love writing about it. A Futago Gravity Falls AU? I sincerely hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Cover art is done by the amazingly talented [ASweetenz](https://twitter.com/ASweetenz)!! Please check out her work, you won't be disappointed. Big thanks to [Pen](https://twitter.com/PentheDragon) and [Zi](https://twitter.com/atonalremix) for betaing this. Also I couldn't be more appreciative of [Capra](https://twitter.com/cunningcapra)'s help when it came to their extensive knowledge of yokai. This fic wouldn't be possible without all of you - seriously.

As Goro stepped into the station, he questioned why he ever agreed to Akira’s pestering. It was Akira - wasn’t that a sufficient reason? - but Goro wondered when enough was enough. He gripped his phone tighter in his gloved hands, inspecting the screen for the time. 1:57 PM. The train would be leaving soon.

He glanced around him, bangs swaying with the movement. Maybe a haircut was in order after he returned back to Tokyo. A ponytail could only control his hair so much, after all. Focusing on his surroundings, he watched as people hurried through the subway, bumping shoulders as they went. It was so painfully mundane, it made Goro wish his life still consisted of life-and-death choices and cutthroat scenarios. The thrill of fighting to survive in the Metaverse was a dream long since past - instead, it was just a busy Friday afternoon in the Yongen-Jaya Station.

Unlocking the screen of his phone with a note of impatience, he scowled at the lack of notifications. This was a waste of his time. Akira had insisted he arrive early - and for _what_? He was going to miss the train at this rate.

“Heeeeeeey!”

Goro instinctually turned his head towards the shout, and he watched an orange head of hair bounce in his direction. Futaba slowed to a stop at his side, leaning over and placing her hands on her knees. She was panting from the excursion, her over-packed bag rising and falling against her back.

He stood by her side awkwardly, shifting his weight. He eyed her cautiously, unwilling to offer a hand or comfort her in any way. “Futaba,” he said instead, “You’re late.”

“Not even… a… hello?” She huffed between breaths, finally standing up. Of course, her head barely reached Goro’s chin. “Sorry, by the way. Sojiro didn’t wanna let me go.”

Goro raised an eyebrow, pocketing his phone. “Wasn’t he the one who decided this would be good for you?”

She shrugged slightly, the straps of her backpack shifting on her shoulders. “He worries, y’know?” She blew out a stream of air, causing her chopped bangs to lift off her forehead. “It’s what dads are supposed to do.”

Goro’s anger regarding Shido was aged and buried. The bastard had been put in jail over half a year ago, and his dream of being Prime Minister was more dead than Goro and Futaba’s mothers. While Goro had gone without a father his entire life, Futaba was lucky enough to gain a replacement in Boss.

“Perhaps,” he said after a moment, unwilling to comment further. “Putting shitty fathers aside, we have a train to catch.”

Futaba stood on her tip-toes and, to Goro’s amusement, barely reached the height of his nose. “I can’t wait to see my key item again,” she grinned, very nearly bouncing. “How long has it been since he was here?”

Goro, who had _definitely not_ been counting the days, said, “Four months. Right around spring vacation.”

Without any preamble, she punched him lightly against his arm. “Oh, you total _dork_. You probably have it marked on your calendar or something: _Days Since I’ve Seen My Rival_.”

Goro narrowed his eyes with a huff. “You’re fabricating information.”

“I’ve seen worse in your search history, Mr. _What Do You Do On A First Date_.”

Goro gritted his teeth, balled his hands into fists and - he took a breath, forcing his muscles to relax. This wasn’t the time to pick a fight, no matter _how_ embarrassed Futaba could make him. He was lucky, considering her hacking skills and commitment to blackmail. If she so chose to, _Akechi Goro: Most Incompetent Boyfriend EVER?_ could become the new trending headline all throughout Japan.

Well. Considering that Goro’s name was forgotten among the masses overnight, perhaps that headline would accomplish nothing. He was _no one._ After Yaldabaoth’s collective mindwipe and Maruki’s bullshit magic, Akechi Goro didn’t _exist_.

Goro let out a sigh, turning his gaze to Futaba. “Hey, the train is about to leave. Are you and your oversized backpack ready to go?”

Futaba pouted, grabbing the straps of her bag defensively. “You can never be too prepared,” she said. “What do you have in yours, a picture of Akira and your Feather Red blaster?”

The answer to that was not quite a _no_ , which invigorated Goro into striding towards the train without a word.

“Hey, don’t leave me behind!” Futaba called, and she chased behind him. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, he shortened his stride to allow her to catch up. “You’re so mean.”

“I never suggested otherwise,” he said cooly, a smirk tugging at his lips. He relished in the groan from the girl at his side.

They boarded the train, slipping into opposing seats. Goro sat down, moving to slide his backpack next to him. He made sure to handle his bag cautiously, considering that _yes_ , his Feather Red blaster _was_ tucked carefully in the folds of his blanket. Futaba seemed too busy with situating her own bag to notice, which was a relief to Goro and the shattered remains of his pride.

“Why did you agree to this, anyway?” he asked to fill the air. The train doors had shut and they were beginning to gain momentum. The sights of the subway shifted into a blur. “I figured you would prefer to stay at home.”

“I need to level up,” she said, as if that meant anything to Goro. “I’ve been stuck on this level for _so long_ , I just… I need to get out of my comfort zone.”

Finally, language he could understand. “Leaving Tokyo for a trip to the countryside certainly fits the bill,” he said with a light scoff, crossing his arms across his chest. “Did Akira pester you too?”

Futaba was typing away on her phone, knees pulled to her chest. Her headphones were crooked, half-sliding off her ears, and Goro was surprised that his first instinct was to lean forward and readjust it for her. Before he could dwell on it, she hummed, “Probably less than _you_ , I’d guess.”

Goro forced back an immediate rebuttal. Akira had texted him every morning, afternoon, and night about this trip. Phone calls were reserved for when Akira was more desperate, but _still_ \- Goro had been bothered countless times every _day_ about this trip. How lonely was Akira, back home in Inaba? He had that damn cat with him. What was the big deal?

“Regardless,” he began, collecting his thoughts, “we’re headed to his hick town for the week.”

There were quite a few questions he could ask here. _What do the other Thieves think about you spending the week with me and Akira? How do they feel about you taking the train there with infamous bastard, traitor, and overall awful human being, Akechi Goro? Isn’t it odd, discovering we were half-siblings this entire time?_

Goro bit his tongue, wincing at the influx of pain. _No_ , he was _not_ about to start with that particular touchy subject. Futaba had found out a few months ago (it was three months ago, not like Goro was counting, of course) and refused to talk to him for the weeks that followed. Who could blame her? If _he_ had found out his long lost half-sibling murdered his mother, he would probably react the same way.

That raised another question: why the _hell_ would Futaba choose to spend time with him? She was acting like her usual self, but he could see her fidgeting. He couldn’t help but notice her hands shaking, her constant texting, and the way her smiles wobbled with uncertainty.

She was afraid of him. Why wouldn’t she be?

Goro averted his eyes to his lap, focusing on the quiet _thump thump thump_ of the train. Akira’s true intention for this trip was obvious from the start - Goro had just elected to ignore it. The bastard wanted Goro and Futaba to spend time together - and most importantly - away from the other Thieves. He had _not so subtly_ mentioned “making up for lost time” and some other bullshit Goro decided to ignore on the seventeenth text message.

Goro had _killed her mother_. Why the fuck was he going on a vacation with her? Why had Futaba _agreed_?

“Have you ever been outside of Tokyo?” Futaba asked suddenly, voice shaking with the vibrations of the train. Her head was down, eyes focused on her phone screen, and the glare of the blue light reflected off her glasses like a one-way mirror. Her hands were still trembling under the weight of her phone.

He shook his head slightly. “Besides a few hours here and there for an investigation, no. Nothing notable, at least.”

“Huh,” she said, blinking at her phone, “that’s… kinda surprising, actually.”

“I never had the opportunity as a child to travel, and by the time I was out of the foster system…” He sighed through his nose, frown tugging down his lips, “ _well_.”

There was no need to elaborate further. Futaba knew about Goro’s life after leaving the orphanage. Becoming their father’s obedient dog and trained weapon didn’t exactly leave time for vacationing outside of Tokyo. There were too many targets - how else would Shido win the seat of Prime Minister? Those politicians weren’t going to kill themselves.

Silence stretched between them, leaving Goro feeling unnaturally anxious. He had been with Futaba before - why was he feeling so unsure of himself now? For the first time in a while, he felt off-balance. The taps of Futaba’s fingers against her phone screen further agitated Goro, an incessant reminder of the elephant in the room.

He shut his eyes and tightened his grip on his biceps, missing the familiar fabric of his blazers and jackets. Goro hated summer, considering the hot weather and how prone to sweating he was. The heat almost made him miss the endless winter of Maruki’s puppet show.

He could still remember striding towards Leblanc the first day he woke up, baffled by the changes in their reality. The chill had settled into his bones, as if at home with the wrath that resided there. Akira had been just as surprised as him.

As terrified as Goro felt that afternoon, he almost wanted to _laugh_. Akira’s Thieves had slipped into their personal fantasies so easily. If Goro had truly died back in the engine room, what would Akira have done?

Goro opened his eyes, watching Futaba tap away at her phone. Akira certainly wouldn’t be inviting them to his home back in Inaba right now, that was for sure. He pushed the thought aside for now, focusing on the present. Futaba wouldn’t be starting any conversations, so it was up to him to pick up the slack.

“What about the other Thieves?” he asked, biting back a wince at how fast her head shot up at the sound of his voice. “Were they devastated their precious leader failed to invite them?”

“At first, _yeah_ ,” she hummed, tilting her head slightly. She glanced back to her phone, lips pulling into a small frown. “They were fine with it after, though.”

“After _what_?” he asked tentatively, lacking his usual derisiveness.

Futaba seemed to shrink into herself when she mumbled, “After I told them you were going too.”

“What?” He found himself blurting out. “Wouldn’t they be _more_ opposed after knowing that?”

_I killed your mother. I betrayed your team. I’m an awful person._

“I told them,” she said quietly, ducking her head. “About _us_.”

So now the Phantom Thieves knew about him and Futaba. The secret was out - the same cursed blood ran through their veins, tainted by the same vile man. Akira hadn’t known until Futaba found out. Goro had known since the day he killed Isshiki Wakaba.

The train _thump thump thumped_ beneath him, an ubiquitous reminder of their destination. Other passengers sat at their seats, occupied with conversations, newspapers, or their phones. They had turned a blind eye to the tragedy beside them. Perhaps Futaba had, too.

“ _I_ _killed your mother_ ,” he hissed, low enough for only Futaba to hear. “Why the fuck are they okay with this?”

“Akira,” she said, and that was answer enough.

 _Akira_ persuaded them. _Akira_ assured her it would be fine. _Akira_ defanged Goro a long time ago. _Akira, Akira, Akira._

Goro seethed in silence. His entire world seemed to revolve around Akira. His thoughts, his feelings, his _heart_ \- their final destination was always Akira. Joker’s dream had come true, even in their true reality. Akira had chased after Goro, seeking him out like a moth to a flame. Goro had died _twice_. Akira, the fool he was, never let go.

The train’s incessant _click-clack_ kept Goro grounded. He buried his thoughts of Akira down for later introspection. His current predicament sat across from him, curled in on herself, holding onto her phone for dear life. Her headphones were still askew. Goro’s fingers twitched to adjust them, an instinct entirely new to him.

It was odd, to say the least. Goro had known about his connection to Futaba before he had even met her. Shido had neglected to tell him, but Isshiki’s final pleas were enough to inform him of their bond. There was no reason to tell Futaba during their time exploring the Metaverse. What would have changed? Futaba would have retreated back into her shell when the Thieves needed her most. It would have just been another mistake on Goro’s long list.

He could have just kept his mouth shut. She didn’t need to know. She had gone her entire life without knowing, and she had a better father in Sojiro anyway. Of course, Goro was laughably awful at that particular endeavor, so it was no surprise he told her.

 _Your father is Shido_ , he had said in a quiet hiss one night in Leblanc. Boss had left for the night and Akira had returned home to Inaba. In the dim lights of the cafe, they shared their first time alone. _Your mother’s Shadow told me._

That night, Goro learned Futaba was a _freeze_ type, too. Wasn’t that funny?

_Futaba-_

_Leave_ , she had squeaked out. Her eyes had been squeezed shut, her hands pressing her headphones against her ears. She couldn’t block out the truth, not when he had already released it into the air. Before it left Goro’s tongue, it didn’t exist. Now, in the shattered sanctity of Leblanc, it had _meaning_.

He might have spent the next few seconds trying to get through to her, but her walls had already been reconstructed around her. Once again, Goro was locked out. Had he ever been allowed entry in the first place?

 _Click-clack_. _Click-clack_. _Click-clack_.

Goro turned his head towards the window on his right, watching the countryside blur into a green blob of colors. The nature was a far cry from the metal and lights and smoke of Tokyo, and Goro wondered what the light of day would feel like against his skin. Had he breathed in fresh air before? Had his heart only known pollution?

Futaba shifted in her seat, pulling her legs closer to her chest. They would be in Inaba soon. Would Akira be able to rectify this? Akira could do _anything_ , after all.

Goro opened his mouth and shut it immediately after in a bout of hesitation. What could he say?

 _Click-clack_. _Click-clack_. _Click-clack_.

Hereward thrummed under his skin, an ubiquitous reminder of his resolve. Goro took in a breath, flicking his gaze back to the girl across from him.

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth,” he sighed, his shoulders sinking under the weight of his guilt. Maybe it was his victims’ undead hands dragging him down. “Not that it means much.”

Futaba shifted in her seat, fingers ceasing their endless typing. Her eyes cautiously moved to meet Goro’s. Looking at her like this, Goro could see his own eyes staring back at him. Shido had those same garnet eyes, too.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, turning her gaze back towards her phone. The moment was shattered as quickly as it was established. Had their bridge burned that quickly? Futaba slid her finger across her screen, a small frown on her face. “I know… she isn’t coming back. And that you’re trying to level up. I get that.”

Goro, on the other hand, _didn’t get that_. Was she seriously using her video game terminology at a time like this?

“You’re still a rootkit,” Futaba said, her tone reminiscent of how she spoke in the Metaverse. Her voice was backed with the quiet intensity of Al Azif. “But… you’re _trying_. I - I know what that’s like.”

Goro lowered his eyes. Futaba shouldn’t be the one buttering him up. _She_ was the one working through a crisis. He was the storm itself, tearing into her life and ruining the foundation she built up over this past year. He was an awful person. How could she ever accept him as her brother?

“ _Stop_ ,” he hissed. If he were still seven, he might have put his hands over his ears to block out the sound. He was nineteen, far more haunted than the child discovering his mother’s corpse in their bathtub, and had a _mission_. “This isn’t going to work. This - it was _never_ going to work.”

Why had he ever deluded himself into thinking otherwise? Futaba hated him. Futaba was _afraid_ of him. He deserved death, two times over. Futaba had been cursed enough by his existence.

Akira would hate him if he turned around. If Goro returned to Tokyo and left Futaba to traverse Inaba on her own, Akira would certainly hate him. If she got lost or hurt, it was his fault. Goro could deal with the Thieves blaming him. They had done it before, more times than he could count. Boss? _Perhaps_. He had worked with grieving parents during his detective days.

But the thought of Akira hating him, of cutting Goro out of his life? Akira was the only one who wanted him - the only one to reach out his hand, over and over again. In the end, Goro was never worth the wish, the tragedy, the heartbreak. Futaba was better off before she knew. Akira was better off without him too.

“... I want to try,” Futaba said quietly. “We can do that, right?”

Goro sucked in a gasp of air, garnet eyes flicking up to his sister. While her legs were still pulled to her chest, she looked more determined. Less _afraid_. This was the girl who fought against god, not the child burying herself in her own guilt.

This was _Futaba_. Maybe Goro had been the one covering his eyes this entire time.

He was terrible for her. He had caused her an unbelievable amount of strife. He might have been the worst thing that ever happened to her - and she still wanted to _try_.

He sighed, shuddering with the exhale. Perhaps he could try, too.

“I… suppose we can,” he said after a moment. Oddly enough, a smile found its place on his lips.

Futaba wore a small smile as well. Goro’s chest felt lighter at the sight of it. Seeing the girl burdenless alleviated his own guilt. Maybe _this_ was his atonement.

“Now arriving in Yaso-Inaba,” the speakers blared, snapping Goro out of his reverie. “Now arriving in Yaso-Inaba.”

Goro delicately took his bag, as to not scratch his Feather Red blaster. Akira had teased him about it, and Goro decided to swallow his pride and show the prop off. His mother had given it to him on his seventh birthday, a few weeks before she inevitably killed herself. She had worn a tired smile, weary from the extra nights worked to pay for the toy. While she may not have been happy in the end, Goro treasured those last few memories of her.

“Watch your step,” he said, tongue working before his brain. Futaba’s safety worried him in a way it never had before. Back in their time as Thieves, she had always been tucked away inside Necronomicon and Prometheus. Her teammates had protected her when Shadows came too close. Perhaps he was making up for lost time, just like Akira had suggested.

How sentimental of him.

“I’m not a kid,” she grumbled back. Of course, her oversized backpack towering over her did little to prove her point.

With a teasing smirk, he exited the train with Futaba close on his heels. The Yaso-Inaba station was much less crowded than the one back in Yongen-Jaya, which should have come to no surprise. Regardless, Goro was still in awe over the emptiness of the station. Two other people had departed at this stop besides them, and the station must have held fifteen people at _most_.

“Quiet, huh?” Futaba asked, scuffing her shoe against the ground.

Goro hummed in response, beginning to stride towards the exit. “I can actually hear my thoughts,” he remarked after a moment. Tokyo’s subways were loud and boisterous. Here in the silence of Yaso-Inaba, the pounding of his heart was loud and clear.

When they exited the station, they were immediately met with the warm sun rays. Trees lined the walkway, and the grass was greener than Goro had ever seen. It seemed like the town came right out of a magazine - picture perfect scenery for a getaway town in the countryside. Of course a perfect town like this could produce a perfect person like Akira.

“This is so different from Tokyo,” Futaba mumbled, perhaps to herself. “Country Town Simulator is looking pretty good in this year’s release.”

Goro elected to ignore the second half. “This backwater town of his couldn’t be more different than Tokyo.”

It made him wonder. How had Akira felt on his first day in the city? Far away from everything he knew and without a single familiar face in a sea of strangers. Was he afraid?

The idea of Akira, silent and afraid of his own shadow, made him feel _sick_. Akira was determined, sure of himself, and a show off. Whipping around in the air of the Metaverse, black tailcoat trailing after him - imagining Joker as a scared, withdrawn _teenager_ …

“Hey,” Futaba interjected, catching his attention. “I don’t know what’s on your mind but I’m sure it isn’t good.”

Goro averted his eyes, focusing on a tree in the distance. Futaba must have taken his silence as a confirmation of her deduction.

“I just put Akira’s address in my GPS. Let’s go before you get lost in your head again.”

He grumbled under his breath, eliciting a laugh from Futaba. Goro fought back the desire to reach his hand forward and ruffle her hair. They weren’t close enough for that. Maybe a light punch against her arm would be better, considering their tentative agreement.

“Lead the way,” he said mockingly, slipping into his Detective Prince register.

“Eugh,” she gagged, shaking out her arms with a shudder. “Please don’t do that ever again. I think I just got inflicted with a poison status ailment.”

Goro huffed a laugh. He dropped his voice down to his regular pitch when he asked, “His house is by the flood plain, isn’t it?”

“Uhhhhh,” Futaba zoomed in on her screen, “yeah, right by the Samegawa.”

He nodded in confirmation. “We best start walking.”

Futaba hummed in response and, oddly enough, walked with a bounce to her step. Was she that excited to see Akira again? It had been four months since his last visit, and Futaba had been jittery since Akira had suggested their road trip.

Goro, whether he wanted to admit it or not, could relate. Phone calls and online chess matches with his boyfriend could only satiate him so much. Philosophical debates and late night talks weren’t the same over a phone speaker. Akira’s voice was muffled; he was still hiding from his parents’ scrutiny. His parents were hardly around as is, but they liked to intervene in Akira’s personal business whenever possible.

This week, Akira’s parents were busy with work and business trips. It was an optimal time to act under their noses, and Akira decided to invite Goro and Futaba over to Inaba. Futaba would get her _key item_ , or whatever she called him, and Goro would see his rival for the first time since spring. This also entailed Goro and Futaba spending time together and, the longer their trek stretched on, the less Goro seemed to dread the idea.

He was still terrified. One misstep and he could ruin everything. Futaba’s trust in him was limited, and Goro was afraid. He had one chance to rectify things.

Goro focused on the sound of their footsteps against the dirt. It was breezy today, and the leaves of every tree shook and bristled in harmony. Birds tweeted in the distance, tucked away in their nests. The sun shone down on them, and Futaba’s hair almost looked golden in the light.

If Goro were to strain his ears, he could hear the rushing of water. The Samegawa plain must have been close. Futaba’s stride seemed to lengthen, footsteps quickening.

“His house is on the other side of the woods,” she said. “There’s no other way around, so I guess we have to prepare for a forest level.”

Working through her gaming jargon, he nodded after a moment. “And just when I believed he couldn’t be any more of a country boy.”

“You still love him,” she answered without missing a beat, as if it were common sense. Maybe it was.

Shutting his eyes with a sigh, he mumbled, “Perhaps.”

Futaba punched him on the arm, causing him to wince in surprise. “What the hell?”

“You total _dork_ ,” she laughed, and the grin on her face made Goro’s anger dissipate in an instant, “you guys are _dating_. You don’t need to keep it secret.”

Goro answered with a scoff.

“Oh,” Futaba began thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her chin, “maybe I need to unlock our A support to find that out.”

He focused on the rushing current of the Samegawa, putting aside her teasing for now. The golden rays of the sun reflected off the water, and Goro could make out a rippled version of his own reflection. A blob of orange, green, and black moved alongside him.

For the first time in weeks, Goro felt something close to contentment. His heart was at ease, knowing that he and Futaba would attempt to work through their problems and build a bridge after he had mercilessly burnt the initial one down. Despite their rocky past together, they were _trying_. Maybe Akira would be proud of them.

He brushed the sentimental thought aside and raised his gaze, eyes meeting the open forest before him. The canopy was dense, and light sparsely seeped through the leaves and onto the forest floor. It wasn’t dark by any means, but Goro still faltered in slight discomfort.

“You afraid of some trees?” Futaba asked, but her voice lacked a mocking tone. If anything, she seemed to be asking herself the same question. “It’s not like they move like in-”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he interrupted, stepping into the woods. “This isn’t a video game. We’ll get through this forest and arrive at Akira’s house on the other side.”

Futaba nodded, tightening her grip on her phone. “Y-yeah. This is just a side quest.” She walked forward, stopping next to Goro. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

They entered the forest, and Goro shuddered at the lack of the sun’s warmth. It wasn’t _cold_ , but it was certainly a stark difference. He turned towards Futaba and took note of her tightening grip on her phone. How much of her anxiety was she not letting up on?

“Is his house in this exact direction?” he asked, offering Futaba a lifeline.

She latched onto it immediately, flicking her screen to her GPS. “Just about,” she said, forcing her voice to be steady. “We already went over the river, and we’re definitely going through the woods right now.”

Goro sighed, feeling an inexplicable sense of obligation to continue. “To Akira’s house we go.”

And so, they began walking. Futaba stayed on his left, slightly behind him. She was close enough in case she needed to grab onto him, but she was far enough away to maintain her personal space. It mattered little - Goro knew what it was like to seek companionship but lack the courage to reach out and grasp it.

After walking for a minute at most, Goro’s ears perked up at a peculiar sound in the distance. It was difficult to hear past the breeze and rustling leaves but-

“D’you hear that?” Futaba asked, eyes cautiously scanning their surroundings. She moved slightly closer to Goro. “M-maybe I’m just hearing things.”

Goro, after a moment, shook his head. “No,” he said quietly, and his fingers twitched towards his hip. Meeting empty air, he internally cursed his lack of a gun. “Stay close to me.”

While Futaba did not immediately jump to Goro’s side, she certainly shuffled closer to him. Her eyes scanned the premises continuously, and her knuckles flared white with how tightly she was gripping her phone. For a reason unbeknownst to Goro, he took a step to his left, moving slightly ahead of Futaba. It was almost as if he was protecting her-

“ _Azuki araou ka? Hito totte kuou ka?_ ”

… Was that _singing_? Goro furrowed his brow and continued to scan the area. All he could see were trees and the curve of the Samegawa. Unless the man singing was hiding up in the canopy, Goro was hard pressed to locate the origin of the sound. If anything, it seemed to come from all around them, echoing on all sides.

_Shoki. Shoki. Shoki. Shoki._

Goro stepped closer to Futaba, nearly standing directly in front of her. The melody continued, now accompanied by the sound of… water washing over _something_. He glanced behind himself and noticed that Futaba was shaking like a leaf. It would be easier for him to keep his mouth shut, to ignore her fear… but he had resolved to look out for her.

“It’s just singing,” he said tersely, but it lacked his usual edge. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

Futaba reluctantly nodded, loosening her grip slightly; she still looked terrified. Goro huffed a sigh and began walking forward. Futaba squeaked out a sound of surprise and followed in his tracks, taking two steps for each of Goro’s.

“H-hey,” she grumbled, “warn me next time!”

Goro rolled his eyes without breaking his stride. “Aren’t your video games like that?” he asked mockingly. “No warnings, just a small stimulus before something occurs? A test of your reaction time, essentially.”

“What would you know?” Futaba rebutted with a huff. “I bet you haven’t played anything besides Gun About with Akira.”

Truthfully, Goro had never had the opportunity to play _any_ video games growing up. Gun About came easy to him because he had already had his gun training by then. What was a simulation to the real thing? An easy tool to claim superiority over Akira, even if it was something as silly and negligible as a video game. He elected to stay silent, offering a small hum as a response.

“Figures,” she sighed. She blew out a stream of air, lifting her chopped bangs off her forehead. “I find out I have a long lost brother and it turns out he’s a total noob who thinks argyle sweaters are fashionable.”

Goro’s first instinct was to rebut. While he didn’t consider them to be _fashionable_ , he had had a purpose for wearing them all the time. When he had worked for Shido, he needed to be seen as an adult. If he wore clothing befitting of someone his age - _well_. He would be treated as a child. Perhaps argyle wasn’t optimal, but Goro had grown partial to his sweater vests.

“I’m not a… noob,” he said lamely, earning a laugh from Futaba. He still was uncertain on what a noob _was_ , but Futaba made it clear that she was being derogatory. Wonderful. “At least I’m more equipped to survive a…” he thought back to Futaba’s earlier comment, “ _forest level_ , or what have you.”

Futaba clutched her stomach, continuing to laugh at his expense. “Oh my god, you’re such a _dork_ ,” she wheezed.

Goro fought to keep his eye from twitching as his mouth twisted bitterly into a frown. “I am _not_ ,” he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. He was _not_ going to take this attitude from Futaba.

“Dude,” Futaba’s grin seemed to be permanently etched onto her face now. “I’ve _seen_ your search history. You watch freakin’ _chess tournaments_ in your free time.”

Just as Goro opened his mouth to argue, the sound of bushes rustling reached his ears. He stopped in place and Futaba followed suit, stepping next to him with her shoulder nearly brushing his arm. It seemed that after their first scare, she was more willing to be closer to him. While that was as reassuring as it was terrifying, he was preoccupied with whatever was in the bushes.

Hereward thrummed in the back of his mind, waiting to be called on. While Goro was unable to fully manifest his Persona in the real world, he could summon Hereward for a brief moment and unleash a single attack if needed. It was pitiful compared to his abilities in the Metaverse but… it could work as a distraction if the thing in the bushes proved to be aggressive.

“Al Azif,” Goro said quietly, catching Futaba’s attention. “Can you use it to scope out the area?”

Futaba’s breath hitched - had she been hyperventilating? - and she offered a short nod. “I can try,” she answered quietly.

As Futaba fell into silent concentration, Goro focused on Hereward’s presence in his heart. If he needed to survive… and to protect Futaba… he had to be ready to fight if need be.

“No way,” Futaba breathed at his side, opening her eyes. She was still shaking but - “That’s a yokai in there!”

Was she trembling in _excitement_? His grip on Hereward faltered and he turned to her, staring down at her with an unimpressed gaze. “A… yokai,” he repeated flatly. “Are you joking? They don’t exist-”

“Poggers,” Futaba said, and Goro couldn’t find it in himself to compose a response.

Luckily, the creature in the bushes decided to spare Goro’s sanity by stepping out. It looked just like any other fox besides the fact that it wore a bone-white mask and had _antlers_ sprouting from its forehead. Was it some sort of mutation? Or perhaps someone stuck a mask with fake antlers on a fox as a joke. Surely it wasn’t a yokai. Those were from folklore - merely made-up creatures from the tales spun by housewives to fill the silence.

It ducked its head slightly but Goro could tell that it was looking up at them through the slits in its mask. Dragging its paw in a slow, deliberate line towards itself, Goro’s gaze flicked to the girl at his side.

“I think it wants us to approach it,” Futaba said carefully, her voice hardly above a whisper. “It’s like a legendary Pokemon.”

“It… seems to be unaggressive,” Goro responded quietly after a moment of consideration. The creature continued to stare at them, waiting expectantly for them to approach it. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and steeled his resolve. “Your Persona isn’t detecting any ill will?”

“Nope,” Futaba answered, popping the ‘p’. She shifted away from Goro and took a step towards the creature. “Did Inari send you?” she asked, her eyes hidden behind the glinting of her oversized glasses. “Yip if he did.”

The fox remained silent so Goro assumed that _no_ , Kitagawa did _not_ send this creature. How the artist would send a fox to meet them in the forests of Inaba were beyond Goro but. Well. Weirder things had happened to him over the course of his lifetime.

Goro watched as the fox turned around, facing away from them. It looked over its shoulder, making eye contact with both he and Futaba before turning forward and beginning to walk away from them.

“It wants us to follow it,” Futaba observed, glancing up at Goro. “This is just like that cutscene in-”

“Spare me,” Goro cut her off, waving a hand dismissively. He cleared his throat, looking between his sister and the fox padding away from them. “It certainly seems smarter than a normal fox. And, if it _were_ a yokai - hypothetically, of course - are you _sure_ it isn’t luring us to its… lair, or wherever it may live?”

“My Persona isn’t detecting anything like that,” Futaba repeated, as if annoyed with Goro’s stubbornness. “I think it was telling us to follow it when it dragged its paw towards itself.” Her voice trailed off as she began to frown. “I was never really good at charades so I’d say it’s a coinflip - just like my solo queue teammates.”

While the particular point Futaba was making was shrouded in her gamer terminology, Goro could certainly pick out something about not being able to rely on one’s teammates. “So you’re saying it _isn’t_ safe to follow this fox,” he translated in a flat tone.

“Hell if I know!” Futaba replied jovially with a shrug. “Following it is better than us just standing here and waiting for a mini boss to KO us.”

Goro decided to weigh his options. If he and Futaba were kidnapped by a _fox_ of all things, it would be a laughable way to go out. If this was an evil yokai looking to steal their souls or something superstitious like that, maybe it was karma for all of the atrocities he had committed in his life. Sure, the world would be losing Futaba, but taking one Akechi Goro off this earth would certainly be a net gain, right?

The thought of Futaba being kidnapped or murdered shouldn’t have worn away at him as much as it did. For a reason unbeknownst to Goro, the idea of Futaba being harmed caused him to hesitate. Surely that was because Akira would never forgive him, not because he cared for her. That would be foolish. So what if she was his half-sister? It wasn’t like Shido’s bloodline meant anything to him.

Futaba began to walk forward, snapping Goro out of his thoughts. He blinked, refocusing on the world around him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said hurriedly, heartbeat pounding in his ears. “What if it’s leading us into a trap?” He took a step forward and his arm left his side, reaching out to grab Futaba’s shoulder - but he caught himself and forced his arm to drop to his side. “Don’t…”

His voice trailed off. Don’t _what_? _Don’t go. Don’t get lost. Don’t get yourself hurt. Don’t leave me._

“... Is this our A support?” Futaba asked after a moment.

Goro breathed a sigh. “I… don’t know what that is,” he replied lamely.

“Rootkit,” Futaba huffed. Instead of walking in the direction of the fox, she stayed where she was and unlocked her phone, sliding her finger across the screen. “Well. The fox _was_ going in the right direction, so I guess we’ll just have to lag behind if we want to avoid it.”

Goro’s shoulders sank in relief - when had they hitched up in the first place? - and he adjusted the straps of his backpack. “Alright,” he said finally. “I don’t believe trusting suspicious animals is something we should be doing _regardless_ of the situation.”

“You obviously haven’t met-” Futaba cut herself off, perhaps reconsidering her statement. “Anyway. We’ll just pretend the fox has stream delay on so we can’t snipe its location.”

“I,” Goro began and promptly closed his mouth. “Is there a translation to that?”

“We wait,” she said slowly, “and _then_ we follow it.”

Goro nodded in his understanding. Couldn’t Futaba have just said it like that in the first place? There was no need for her to overcomplicate everything with her gamer terminology when she _knew_ he didn’t understand it.

Oh. She was mocking him. That had to be it, right?

He debated on asking her about it upfront. They had to wait for the fox to create distance between them anyway, so-

“You _know_ I don’t understand your… _gamer speak_ ,” he began, lacking his usual confidence. For a reason unbeknownst to him, he felt as if he was walking on thin ice. The cracks were growing beneath his feet and a single misstep could leave him submerged. “Are you mocking me?”

To Goro’s confusion, Futaba looked more _affronted_ , if anything. “This is how I _talk_ ,” she said with clear annoyance. “I didn’t do your whole… two-faced dichotomy or whatever classic gray morality villains with tragic backstories do to hide their trauma.”

It was Goro’s turn to be insulted, it seemed. “I’m sure I pulled it off better than whatever two out of ten star rated game you must be playing,” he answered with a huff. As infuriating as her gaming terminology could be, at least she wasn’t mocking him on purpose. “Anyway. Do you think we have… ah… lagged enough?”

“I wish I recorded you saying that,” Futaba smiled, trying to stifle her laughter. Apparently laughing at Goro’s incompetence was enough to lift her spirits after their conversation about speech patterns. “I can just _see_ Twitch chat - a sea of KEKWs and pogchamps…” She sighed fondly, as if reminiscing on a happier time - and perhaps she was, knowing her.

Goro cleared his throat, deciding to ignore her gamer speak. “I believe we should start walking again. The fox must have put enough distance between us by now.”

“Tired of being bullied by hypothetical Twitch chat already?” she asked with a small pout. “Fine, fine. Let’s get going.”

Without much preamble, they began to walk in the direction that the fox had padded off in. Goro stayed on alert, wary of their surroundings in case any other strange animals decided to cross paths with them. At his side, Futaba hummed a tune that _must_ have been the background music of her _forest level_ or whatever she had been talking about earlier. With how quietly she was humming, he had to strain his ears in order to hear her in the first place.

“Is that from a video game?” he asked conversationally, hoping to capture her interest. Maybe she would be more willing to talk if he asked about something she cared about.

Futaba rolled her eyes, putting a stop to her humming. “Well, _duh_. It’s from Ocarina of Time, only the _best_ Zelda game - before Majora’s Mask and Twilight Princess, of course.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

Goro nodded, moving a hand to his chin on instinct. “I suppose it’s a favorite of yours?” he inquired, the smallest hint of a smile on his face. It was nice to talk to her without the weight of the world pressing down on their shoulders. If he were to pretend for just this moment, he could truly imagine her as his younger sister.

“My favorite Zelda game, sure,” she said, moving her hand in a dismissive motion, “but it isn’t my favorite game _ever_.”

“And what would that be?” he asked.

Futaba hummed in thought, tapping a finger to her chin. “Uber difficult to pick. I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”

Well. At least he was making progress in communicating with her. All he needed to do was talk about video games and let her laugh at his expense and it was like their awful past together was forgotten. Goro had been laughed at before - he could certainly take a joke or two if it helped to reconcile with Futaba.

Goro let his hand fall from his chin, idly wrapping his fingers around one of his backpack straps. Distantly, he worried about underpacking and being unprepared. Akira had intended for them to stay in Inaba for around a week; surely it was just that Futaba was _over_ prepared, not that he was woefully under-packed as he feared.

Futaba resumed her humming and walked with a skip to her step. For all he knew, she was imagining herself in the role of her favorite video game character, bouncing jovially through the forest without a care in the world. Somehow the strange singing they heard earlier and the fox they ran into seemed to be a distant memory for her. If _only_ it was that easy for Goro to push aside bad memories. Life would be a goddamn dream, wouldn’t it.

“Hey,” Futaba said suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Is there _supposed_ to be an empty shrine there or did it not render properly?”

Goro directed his eyes to where Futaba was pointing and - oh. Where there _should_ have been a statue dedicated to a god of some sort was… _nothing_. The rock, the carvings in the stone, the offerings - everything except the centerpiece was present. It was almost as if the statue had come to life and-

“Don’t tell me,” Goro began, irritation seeping into his tone. “If that statue somehow animated itself just to bother us-”

And as if the universe decided to completely fuck with him and Futaba, a shadow of _something_ towered over them.

Goro fought back his growing anxiety and tightened his grip on his backpack strap. At his side, Futaba squeaked in her surprise, nearly dropping her phone. He reached inward for Hereward, prepared to pull his Persona from his heart if need be, turned around and-

Met the towering figure of a red demon. It wore traditional robes and honestly could have passed for a human if its skin wasn’t bright red or-

“OMG,” Futaba said and - wait, was she _laughing_? “It looks like _you_!”

Ah yes. The demon’s bright red long nose certainly resembled Goro’s original mask in the Metaverse.

However, they had a more pressing matter to address. “Are you here to eat our souls?” he asked in his Detective Prince register, hoping to dissuade the tengu against it. “We mean no harm, truly. We were just passing through and…”

Futaba was _still_ laughing. He knocked her arm with the point of his elbow, hoping to get her to focus. Looking back to the yokai, he maintained his perfect television smile as he continued. “Don’t mind my sister, she’s… ah… very excitable and quick to laugh!”

The tengu remained unmoving, lips set into what seemed like a permanent frown. Goro’s heart was pounding in his ears and he was certain the sweat was just _pouring_ off of him. Luckily, Futaba’s laughter had tapered off into quiet giggles. While Goro was glad she wasn’t shaking like a leaf or cowering in fear behind him, he wondered if this was truly any better.

“We’re sorry for any inconveniences we may have caused you,” he continued hurriedly, dancing a slow step back. Before he could regret it, he reached to his side and grabbed Futaba’s wrist, giving it a small squeeze. “We were actually on our way out of the forest, if you would excuse us!”

Without any warning, Goro spun on his heel and definitely did _not_ start running away from the tengu. Futaba stumbled after him, nearly being dragged forward before she found her footing.

“H-Hey!” she called, her voice pitched up higher in her surprise. “What did I say about warning me first?”

Goro glanced back over his shoulder, seeing her huffing and puffing at the sudden excursion. “And wait for that demon to murder us on the spot?” he asked derisively, adrenaline still coursing relentlessly through his veins. “Grabbing your wrist should have been warning enough. It could have _killed_ you!”

Futaba panted, her voice breathy when she spoke up. “It could have killed you too,” she huffed, surprisingly serious. After catching her breath, she wheezed out, “I have asthma, can we _please_ stop?”

At her request, Goro grinded to a halt and Futaba nearly toppled to the ground with her momentum. Realizing he was still holding her wrist in a death grip, he promptly released it and pulled his hand to his chest. He had only grabbed it to pull her to safety because the thought of her being hurt or killed-

“Are you alright?” he asked, unwilling to continue down that train of thought. “Do you have an inhaler with you?”

“Inhalers… are for _wimps_ ,” she huffed, collapsing to the ground in a heap. “I’ll be… fine. Just… just gimme a minute.”

Goro obliged despite a small feeling in his gut nagging him to ask her again. If he was going to constantly be worrying for her wellbeing like this… _well_. This would be an annoying change of pace. But..

Perhaps it wasn’t all too bad, having something to protect. It was how he felt around Akira, after all.

He pushed the thought aside for now and watched as Futaba wiped her brow, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Fortunately, her breathing was slowing down to a healthier pace, so maybe inhalers _were_ for wimps.

“We ran fairly far,” he said after a moment, adjusting his gloves to busy his hands. “Surely we can’t be _too_ far from Akira’s house by now?”

Futaba unlocked her phone, swiped at her screen, and turned her phone around to show Goro. “We ran the wrong way,” she said before leaning backwards and laying on the forest floor. Sighing, she woefully said, “If only we had an indicator like in Mario Kart…”

As Goro had never heard of a… _Mario Kart_ … he decided to focus on her original response. “Once you catch your breath, we can reroute ourselves and-”

“I’m fine,” Futaba interrupted with a huff. Her eyes moved from Goro to the canopy above them and she raised her hand, sticking out her index finger. After a few seconds, she murmured, “The wind is coming from our left. So that should mean… uh…”

“What happened to your GPS,” Goro said flatly, unimpressed by her real life navigation skills. As if to drive the point home, he reiterated, “There’s no need to figure out which way the wind is blowing if you have your GPS.”

“... I saw it in a show once,” she answered in a small voice. “I figured that, while we were out here, I could try to… y’know… not always rely on technology.”

Goro could recall their conversation from the train earlier. Futaba had curled up on herself and said in an equally-quiet voice, _I need to level up_. Maybe he was beginning to understand her language.

He swallowed down whatever derogatory remark was forming on his tongue and took a breath to compose himself. “Your technique is all wrong. You need to wet your finger before you put it in the air.” He was _not_ going to demonstrate for her, especially not when the last time he washed his hands was before they met up at the train in Yongen-Jaya. “As the wind will evaporate the saliva on your finger and displace your body heat, wherever your finger feels the coldest is where-”

“Of _course_ you’d know something about _wind direction_ just so you could explain it to someone,” Futaba grumbled to herself, getting to her feet. Readjusting her backpack, she placed a finger in her mouth before raising it above her head. With her other hand, she pointed to their left. “The wind is coming from that way!” After a moment, she sheepishly asked, “What does that mean again?”

“It means the wind is coming from that direction,” Goro answered, unimpressed. “Did we not just go over this?”

“No, no,” Futaba shook her head, apparently unhappy with Goro’s explanation. “I _know_ the wind is coming from that direction. But _now_ what?”

Goro narrowed his eyes at her, realizing what she meant. Ah, of course. She had seen it in a show and had no idea how to apply it. Well _obviously_ , after determining the wind direction, one would...

“I don’t know,” Goro replied, frowning bitterly at his own lack of knowledge. “I… I also saw it in a show once.”

“It was Neo Featherman R season four, episode seven for me,” Futaba said. “The one where the Rangers get lost in the woods and-”

“ _Yes_ ,” Goro interrupted her with a shake of his head. “They get lost in the woods and Yellow Owl uses his finger as a weathervane and fails spectacularly.”

“At least Red Hawk got them out of there,” Futaba said with a sigh. “If only we had our Feather Red with us…”

Goro, swallowing past the lump in his throat, mustered all of his confidence and asked, “Aren’t Feather Green and Gray enough?”

Futaba looked up at him in surprise, blinking at him with her doe-like eyes. After recovering from her stupor, her eyes shimmered like the gremlin she was and she chuckled menacingly. “We don’t need Feather Red,” she said with a small grin. “This’ll be our spin-off show that the fans will beg the creators to canonize. I just hope we won’t get redacted by a later release or something dumb like that.”

“... Sure,” Goro said eventually, wondering if he should have brought up this topic in the first place. “Anyway. We should be getting back on track to Akira’s house. We’ve spent enough time here fantasizing.”

“I’m going back to using my GPS,” was Futaba’s answer, so that was a good sign. After a moment, she spun on her heel and pointed slightly to the left of the direction the wind had been blowing in. “Let’s head that way and hope it doesn’t start with that _recalculating_ bs. GPS-san gets _really_ bratty when-”

“GPS-san?” Goro asked in his dismay. “It’s a _program_ , not a person. Why are you referring to it with an honorific?”

“Don’t listen to him, GPS-san,” Futaba said in a motherly voice and made shushing sounds to her phone. “He doesn’t mean it.”

Goro took a deep breath, counted to five, and released it before speaking. “Come on. Let’s just hurry to Akira’s house before you start giving the _trees_ honorifics as well.”

“They are _living things_ ,” Futaba rebutted with a pout but started walking anyway.

 _And when I believed I was dead in Maruki’s reality, I was still Akechi-kun_ , Goro mused bitterly. His conclusion ended up being faulty in the end, so it hardly mattered now. For better or for worse, he was alive because destiny decided he wasn’t done yet. How joyous.

Their trek back to their original pathway was silent for the most part. That is - Futaba had run out of comments about their surroundings and Goro had pushed down all of his subsequent criticisms. While Goro thought he would enjoy the peace and quiet, he almost _wanted_ Futaba to speak up and start another conversation. It was an odd desire for him to come to terms with, but Goro had already been adjusting his perception of Futaba as their day went on. No longer was she just the Phantom Thieves’ navigator, shut-in, and all around _nerd_ \- he was starting to see her as, well, _her_.

“Goro?”

He looked towards Futaba; the uncertainty in her voice caused something in the pit of his stomach to unsettle itself. “What is it?” he asked, hoping the slight fear in his voice didn’t carry.

She raised her finger tentatively and pointed towards one of the trees they were approaching. “Are birds _supposed_ to have two heads or are my visuals buggy?”

Goro lifted his gaze, immediately noticed the two-headed bird perched up in one of the branches, and forced himself not to panic. “It’s just a bird,” he said, mostly to himself. “Maybe there was a mutation or something.” If he rationalized it, it would make more sense. “That would explain why one of its heads is white despite the rest of its body being black.”

“I think it’s another yokai,” Futaba said, completely brushing over Goro’s reasoning. “Lowkey it looks cool and I’d want it on a t-shirt, but highkey I don’t wanna end up as supernatural bird food.”

“Ah,” Goro answered for lack of a better response. “I think we’re in agreement there.”

As if communicating telepathically, they both broke into a sprint alongside each other. The bird cawed with both of its beaks above them, and Futaba squeaked in her fear. With adrenaline coursing through his veins and the underlying worry of being attacked filling his mind, it almost felt similar to casting Call of Chaos on himself.

Goro chanced a glance above them but the bird hadn’t moved. Even as they ran far enough that it was barely in sight, it remained stationery on its branch. Once they grinded to a stop, realization came to Goro in the wake of their running: the yokai had no intention of harming them.

“Why was… why was it just perched there… _menacingly_ ,” Futaba huffed between breaths, her hands on her knees. “Maybe… we might not be… a high enough level… to fight it?”

He shut his eyes and focused on regulating his breathing. Once he could talk without huffing and puffing, he said, “I’m beginning to believe this is similar to a haunted house.”

“Maybe we like… ruined something sacred? And that’s… why they’re here?” Futaba offered, still catching her breath. Maybe she _did_ need to take her inhaler, especially if this kept happening.

“Perhaps,” he said, his hand moving to his chin out of habit. Realizing this, he dropped his arm before Futaba could laugh at him for it. “Or maybe they live in this forest and hate visitors.”

“Same,” Futaba said instantaneously. After another few moments of intaking oxygen, she straightened up and checked her phone again. “Luckily we ran in the _right_ direction this time. Should be…” she paused, reading over the content written on her screen. “Maybe another fifteen minute walk from here if we go straight. That’s not too bad.”

“What was that term you used earlier?” Goro asked, “Pogs?”

“Oh god,” Futaba wheezed, clutching her stomach. “POGS. _POGS!_ ”

Goro felt his face flush in his embarrassment. He was never going to play along with her weird internet slang and terminology ever again. She would surely tell Akira about this and they would share a hearty laugh at his expense. To his defense, he still had no idea what the hell a _pog_ was. He hardly knew what trolling somebody entailed.

“I guess,” she gasped between her laughs, “that means you don’t have gamer DNA either.”

“Gamer-” Goro shut his mouth, unwilling to play into her hand. “Nope. I’ve had enough of being your laughingstock.” He stomped forward, passing her, and kept his gaze ahead of him. “I’m leaving you behind if you don’t follow me.”

“I’m coming,” Futaba said, her voice breathy from her giggles. Once she had caught up to him - he hadn’t been walking very fast anyway - she said in a whiny voice, “That wasn’t very pog of you, Goro.”

“It wasn’t,” Goro smirked, “and I don’t care.”

“This is bullying,” she pouted, crossing her arms across her chest.

They continued walking and, considering that the two-headed bird hadn’t made itself known again, they seemed to be in home stretch. Goro knew his luck, however; it was wishful thinking to believe they would make it the rest of the way and arrive at Akira’s house without any further run-ins. Of course, Goro had been handpicked by a god to be a pawn, won the jackpot for shittiest father, and been denied the chance to die _twice_ in two different versions of reality. He was a walking mistake, contradiction, and really, he should have purchased a Lotto 7 ticket just to test his luck.

So when the sound of a _train_ echoed around them, Goro shouldn’t have been surprised in the least bit. Knowing how far away the Yaso-Inaba train station was, there was absolutely no way they would be hearing it this loudly in the forest. It was illogical, impossible, and most importantly, completely unheard of.

“It’s not my ringtone,” Futaba said, as if Goro had been wondering.

“I figured,” he answered anyway. As the sound of the unseen train continued to echo around them, Goro searched their vicinity for anything that could possibly be making that sound. “Another yokai?” he asked Futaba, half-believing the possibility himself.

“Maybe it’s one of those ones that possess inanimate objects,” she said. “I dunno how plausible bringing an entire _train_ into the forest is but uh… Probably more likely than a shiny.”

“What if it isn’t a train?” Goro asked, still unable to find the origin of the sound. “These are _demons_. Maybe it’s simply mimicking the sound to intimidate us?”

“Uh… that’s a possibility.” Futaba moved closer to him, keeping her eyes peeled as well. “If we _did_ trespass into their forest, maybe they’re trying to spook us so we leave?”

The sound of an incoming train grew louder, spurring Goro into action. Before he could regret it, he snatched Futaba’s wrist and began to walk forward. Futaba yelped in surprise, “Warning!”

“I am going to pull you forward,” Goro said slowly, as if talking to a child. It hardly mattered, considering he was already holding her wrist and walking ahead of her. “I would rather not stay put and test our theory.”

“Alright, _fine_ ,” she huffed, and perhaps he was slightly forgiven. With a dejected sigh, she lowered her head. “Maybe it really _was_ a Pokemon. Some of them have some really outlandish cries. I wouldn’t doubt they’d run out of sound combinations and make one that sounds like a train screeching to a halt.”

“I would not want to see the face of an animal that sounds like _that_ ,” Goro said with a roll of his eyes, tugging her forward. “Let’s go.”

“I bet it looks really ugly,” Futaba said, sounding almost excited about some horrendous freak of nature. “Like a mix between Big Chungus and Pikachu.”

Goro opened his mouth, realized he had no way to answer that coherently, and promptly shut it. Deciding they needed a change in topics, he said, “I’d rather we get out of this forest and discuss your… um… speculations once we have arrived at Akira’s house.”

“ _Fine_ ,” she sighed, shoulders slumping. Taking a look at her phone screen, she said, “It’s only a few more minutes, anyway.”

As they continued walking, Futaba began to hum again. It was slightly louder than when she had done it earlier. Maybe she was more comfortable with Goro now. Or maybe she simply didn’t care anymore. Either way, the tune she was humming was quite nice and Goro had no qualms. Distantly, he wondered if her singing voice was just as pleasant to listen to.

Finally - _finally_ \- Goro could make out the edges of the forest. He could see exactly where the trees ended and the grass clearing began and, if he were to squint, he could just _barely_ see the shape of a house. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows; every tree looked thirty feet long across the forest floor. “Is that it?” Futaba asked a few moments after Goro had spotted the house in the distance, her voice tentative. He had forgotten about her poor eyesight. Looking back at her, her lips morphed into a smile and her tone grew excited. “Did we actually make it?”

“As long as we don’t get attacked within the next twenty feet, _yes_.” He couldn’t help the smile growing on his own face. Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, finding the oasis after trekking the desert for _miles_ \- it felt like a miracle seeing Akira’s house in the distance. Much quieter, Goro mused, “I wonder if he’ll believe us if we disclose what happened here.”

“We saw crazier stuff in the Metaverse,” Futaba said with a shrug. “You’re telling me some of those Shadows were more believable than possibly-shiny screeching incoming train cry Pokemon?”

“Wasn’t Yaldabaoth a cup?” Goro asked.

“Well, he had some fancy title like, _God of Control, Holy Grail, Malevolent God_ or whatever, I dunno. But he was just a big ol’ cup and we shot him a bunch.” She had said it so offhandedly, it was hard to believe this _cup_ almost ended humanity. “Huh. I guess Akira really likes shooting gods in the face. Must be a kink or something.”

Goro turned away from her and kept his eyes on the approaching house. “That’s ah… what do you call it?” After a moment of contemplation, he nodded to himself. “Tee em eye.”

“You’re learning, grandpa,” Futaba said, sounding proud of him - and maybe she was.

As they stepped out of the forest and into the light of the dying sun, Goro smiled in relief. They made it out in one piece and were able to get to Akira’s house. A childish part of him wanted to celebrate the occasion.

When he turned back to Futaba, her eyes were trained on her screen and her fingers were flying across her keyboard. “I told him we’re outside,” she explained without even looking up. “He should be opening the door before I bust all of his digital locks.”

“Alright,” Goro said for a lack of anything else. He was still recovering from the shock of surviving that haunted forest of yokai. He could let Futaba do the talking for once.

After around a minute, the door swung open and-

“Hey guys,” Akira said, a smile on his face. The glint in his gunmetal eyes was unmistakable as he glanced between his boyfriend and pseudo-adoptive sister. “Long time no see.”

Futaba ran forward and did what Goro could vaguely remember as being called a _glomp_. “Akiraaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” she cried, burying her face into his chest. “I missed you!”

Akira raised an arm and rubbed circles into her back. “I missed you too.” With a teasing tone, he asked, “Was Goro nice to you?”

Goro made an indignant noise as he walked closer to the two. “I’m right here, you know.”

“I know,” Akira said, half-lidding his eyes and tilting his head. “I was asking Futaba, though.”

“He’s even dorkier than I thought he was,” Futaba said, as if that was the answer to Akira’s inquiry. “He was sorta nice though.”

“I humored her and her… antics,” he elaborated. Ducking his head to hide the blush spreading across his face, he said, “I think I deserve a kiss for that.”

“Listen to him, abusing his boyfriend privileges,” Akira said with a mock roll of his eyes, giving one final squeeze to Futaba before approaching Goro and tilting his head for a kiss. Once they parted, he asked, “You guys make it here okay? No animals tried to pick fights?” At their immediate silence, Akira turned towards Futaba. “Did he fight a squirrel for looking at him funny?”

Goro and Futaba shared a look, perhaps communicating their thoughts on the entire ordeal through their half-sibling telepathic connection. Or maybe they were attempting to forge the same half-baked lie through simple eye contact. Whatever they decided on, they looked towards Akira at the same time.

“Something like that,” Goro said.

“Now can we come inside?” Futaba asked, taking her backpack straps into her hands. “I wanna put my stuff down.”

Goro huffed, “Don’t overpack then.”

Futaba stuck her tongue out at him. “And what did you even bring? Your Feather Red blaster like the dork you are?”

“Don’t bring Feather Red into this,” Goro growled, narrowing his eyes at her. “I didn’t insult your taste in Feather Rangers, so-”

“Um,” Akira butted in, interrupting their squabble. “While I’m glad you two are… getting along, do you want to come inside and continue there?”

“That would be preferable,” Goro nodded, as if he weren’t arguing with Futaba over Featherman characters ten seconds prior. “I would like to be as far away from this forest as possible.”

“Same,” Futaba said with her own nod. “If I wanted a spooky forest level, I’d just play the simulator game from last year.”

“Are you _sure_ nothing happened?” Akira asked, raising an eyebrow at the two of them.

“It was really boring and uneventful. It was like all the spawns were turned off.” Futaba met Goro’s gaze, her eyes conveying a message even _he_ could understand. “Right, Goro?”

Without missing a beat, he nodded and turned back to Akira. “Yes. Nothing notable. Now, let’s head inside before the sun sets.”

“Bossy as always,” Akira said fondly, stepping towards his front door with the swagger of Joker. “But yeah, let’s continue this conversation inside.”

As Akira stepped inside, Goro and Futaba shared a look. It seemed their time in the forest would remain a secret between the two of them. While Goro had no reservations about that, he found himself grateful for the experience as a whole. After the events of the afternoon, Goro felt as if he understood his sister much better than he had in the past. They had reconstructed the bridge between them and, even though the foundation was weak and the bridge creaked with every step, he had a feeling that they had finally met each other for the first time.

Perhaps coming to the same conclusion, they shared matching smiles. Goro mused to himself that maybe this is what having family felt like.

**Author's Note:**

> A majority of the yokai come from the Yamanashi prefecture, which Inaba is based off of. The yokai, in order of appearance are: Azuki arai, Kitsune, Tengu, Yogen no tori, and Yamabiko.
> 
> Please make sure you're checking out the other amazing fics and art in the #GoroBigBang2020 tag on Twitter!! [The account is here](https://twitter.com/GoroBigBang2020), where everything will be retweeted, so make sure you give it a follow. I also have a second fic for the Big Bang coming out later in the month, so if you like Shadow Ops Goro or the Arena games, I hope you'll look forward to that. ;)
> 
> Kudos/Comments are appreciated!! <3


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